


i've been sane too long, my vision's so unclear

by notthebigspoon



Series: the boys of summer [2]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Theriot does not speak a word of Spanish. Well, that's not entirely true. He speaks about as much as the average American, he can make sense of bits and pieces of it. But for all intents and purposes, he just doesn't.</p><p>	It works out both good and bad for Hector.</p><p>Title taken from Bat Country by Avenged Sevenfold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've been sane too long, my vision's so unclear

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [ betsy_borst](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/betsy_borst) for the prompt.
> 
> Contains a passing reference to Glee. (Shut up, don't look at me like that.) That moment was a powerful one for me and it's something that's stuck with me.

Ryan Theriot does not speak a word of Spanish. Well, that's not entirely true. He speaks about as much as the average American, he can make sense of bits and pieces of it. But for all intents and purposes, he just doesn't.

It works out both good and bad for Hector. On the downside, it kind of cuts Ryan out of an important part of his life, like with his friends and family. Few of them outside of baseball speak any English. On the positive side, he can insult and grumble to his hearts content when they're fighting and have the satisfaction of knowing that it's driving Ryan absolutely crazy not to know what Hector is saying. And he can have conversations about his boyfriend without the risk of Ryan knowing what he's talking about.

Like now for example. He's sitting cross legged on the floor of the clubhouse across from Pablo. They both have bowls of ice cream. Pablo is halfway through his but Hector is mostly pushing his around with his spoon. He sticks a spoonful in his mouth when Pablo pokes him and sighs before shaking his head.

“I'm sorry. You know my family is visiting, right?”

“Yes. And I have not seen them, pandito. Are you ashamed of your papa panda?”

“You're messed up.” Hector mutters. “My family doesn't like him. And he doesn't understand what they're saying about him but he understands that not much of it is positive. He left the barbecue early. He would not come back. He has been avoiding me.”

“Is it because he's a guy or because he's old?”

Hector flashes Pablo a dirty look. “He's not old, Sandoval. But yes. He's older than I am and he's a guy. And there's a few things. It just kind of adds up. They're not even trying to get to know him. They don't care that he cares about me. They don't care that he makes me happy.”

Hector stares at his ice cream before shoveling the rest of it into his mouth so quickly that he gets brain freeze. He buries his face in his hands, moaning in pain and cursing Pablo when he laughs and rubs Hector's back. He looks up just in time to see Theriot coming in with Crawford. Hector smiles hopefully, raises a hand and waves a little, calling out a greeting in Spanish before he can think to speak in English.

Ryan doesn't answer. Ryan doesn't even look at Hector. Hector goes home alone.

When he's in the US, Hector sometimes misses his family so much that he can barely breathe. Yet now that they're here to watch his team see this thing through, he's a little depressed and doesn't much feel like being around anyone. He's sitting at his kitchen table with his family, staring at his plate while they chatter about his playing and their plans to go sight seeing. He nods and mumbles occasionally, putting in just enough input to satisfy them and no more.

He helps do the dishes and gets a beer before moving out onto his balcony. He drinks, staring up at the stars. He wants to check his phone to see if maybe Ryan has called or texted him. It's pointless, though. Hector knows that he hasn't. Small blame to him. He was treated awfully, Hector's family either insulting or outright ignoring him. And sure, Ryan couldn't understand what they were saying but there was no mistaking their tone, the implication that there was nothing good about him or his relationship with Hector. None of their behavior was okay or acceptable. But Hector had done nothing to stop it.

He wishes that he had. He doesn't blame Ryan for being mad. Hector wishes you could apologize. He _really_ wishes that he wasn't too big of a coward to call Ryan himself and say what needs to be said.

But he _is_ too big of a coward so he sits on his balcony and drinks beer while his family has a good time without him. He's never been so miserable in his life. When the door slides open behind him, he pretends he doesn't hear it. He knows that it's his mother by the smell of her perfume. Usually the scent is a comfort. Tonight it's anything but.

“You're so quiet tonight, mijo.”

Hector shrugs. “I have nothing to say.”

“After all this time, we did not come so far for you to ignore us.” His mother's voice is teasing. Hector doesn't smile.

“He cares about me. He makes me the happiest I have ever been. He treats me like a king. Makes me _feel_ like a king. But all of you treated him like dirt. Lower than dirt.” Hector says softly, looking away. “Why could you not try, even just a little? He's a good man. But you're not even giving him a chance.”

“Hector. This, what you think the two of you have? It isn't right.”

“You're ashamed that I'm bi.”

“You are no such thing. You're only confused. It will pass, honey. Just you see.”

“I'm not confused, Mom. Nowhere even close to confused. I know exactly who I am and I know what I want. I want Ryan. And he wants me. I'm not ashamed of that. There's nothing to be ashamed of.”

His mother goes rigid. Hector can see her jaw grinding before she clears her throat and finally speaks, voice icy, “The shame comes not in the act but in the speaking of it.”

“I am not going to hide or ignore him. I'm not ashamed of him. I'm not ashamed to speak of him. I'm not ashamed of anything.”

“Then there is nothing left to say. I believe it is best if we go.”

This is everything that Hector had feared. His boyfriend is angry with him and his family doesn't want anything to do with him if he won't throw his boyfriend to the wayside. He has to choose one way or another and either decision is going to hurt. And it will hurt badly. He looks over his shoulder into the house, sees his family speaking. He turns away. They're leaving tonight, that much is clear. He doesn't want to watch them do it.

They don't say goodbye.

He gets up and leans against the railing, leaning against it and watching his family file out of his apartment building. They get into a cab without ever once looking up or behind them. He wipes his hand over his eyes and takes a breath, forces himself to remain calm. He goes inside and grabs his keys and wallet. Locks the door behind him and goes to get in his car. Checks and double checks the seat belt and the mirrors. He drives without really thinking about where he's going. That's a lie. He knows exactly where he's going. He just doesn't know if he's going to be welcome.

Ryan's house only has two lit windows, the living room and the office that bracket the hallway. Hector cuts the engine and sits back, watches them and the shadow that moves back and forth every few minutes. He knows that it means that Ryan is at his computer and occasionally circling into the living room to catch the scores on a game that he's interested in but doesn't care enough about to actually sit in his living room and watch it. After forty five minutes, Hector gathers the courage to walk up the sidewalk and knock on the door.

It's only a few seconds and a shuffling of feet before the door is opening and Ryan is just staring at Hector. He doesn't look happy but he doesn't look unhappy. He's just taking Hector in, like he doesn't know what to make of his presence. Like you would examine something that you're not particularly interested in bothering with. Hector shrinks under the look, bites his lip and doesn't quite meet Ryan's eyes.

“I told them. That I did not like how they treated you. That I knew what I wanted and that that was to be with you. And I told them that I wasn't ashamed of you.”

“I'm sensing a but here.” Ryan answers, sounding tired and annoyed. It makes Hector want to turn away and run.

“There's no but.” He whispers. “Just an and. The and is that they hate me. They left. They're going back to Venezuela. I don't know if they'll come back.”

Ryan sighs and Hector really is going to run away this time. Except Ryan is pulling Hector close and wrapping his arms around his waist. Hector hugs him tightly, rests his head on Ryan's shoulder and takes a slow breath before letting it out. Ryan pulls him into the house and nudges the door shut, locking the door and giving Hector a gentle push. Hector just stares at him, not quite sure what's going on. Ryan sighs and rolls his eyes, grabbing Hector's hand and pulling him up the stairs.

He pushes Hector back onto the bed, moves to straddle his lap. Hector starts to say that he doesn't know if this is a good idea right now but one touch of Ryan's lips against his own changes his mind. Ryan's intoxicating like that. A single look or touch enough to render Hector drunk and stupid. He runs his hands under Ryan's shirt, just touching before he shakes his head and rolls Ryan beneath him. The way Ryan laughs, surprised and delighted and just plain _happy_ sends warmth flooding through Hector's body.

He looks down at Ryan, studies his face. Gorgeous and happy and all Hector's. And a lot of the time he's happy _because_ he's with Hector. Hector didn't know that he could ever make anyone feel that way. He wonders how he got this lucky, how anyone like this could ever want him. In the end, he decides he doesn't care. All that matters is that Ryan does want him. This is everything to Hector.

Usually, there's no rhyme or reason to when they go to bed. It just happens, clothing being tossed here and their as they go to their respective bedrooms or stumbles into a hotel room. This time, Hector pulls Ryan's clothing way slow and deliberate. He touches the skin he exposes, watches it, reminds himself that this belongs to him and that this man means everything to him. He kisses Ryan again, whispers that he wants to keep him, that he _needs_ him and doesn't think he can do without him. He knows that he's speaking Spanish, that Ryan can't understand him. It doesn't matter. Judging by the way his boyfriend is smiling and touching his cheek, Hector thinks that he understands.

Huh. Boyfriend. He never thought of Ryan like that before. But it feels good. It feels right.

He covers Ryan's body with his own, their bodies pressed chest to chest. He rolls his hips, uses the slow and deep thrusts that make Ryan groan and bite Hector's lips. Nails rake down Hector's back before Ryan is gripping Hector's hips, pulling him in deeper. Hector pants things against his lips, blasphemies and declarations he would never dare make in a language that Ryan could comprehend. Yet again though, just like he always seems to when it comes to Hector, Ryan understands. His hands move back up and he tangles his fingers in Hector's mohawk, using the grip to pull Hector impossibly closer.

Hector is pretty sure that saying I love you for the first time when you've just come is probably a bullshit thing to do. But he can't help it. Ryan's beautiful and Hector _does_ love him. He just hadn't realized it up until now. Ryan whispers it back, kisses him and just lay together, still connected, sweaty and sticky and completely happy. At some point, he's not sure when, he rolls away and stands on shaky feet. He wets a cloth, wipes them both down before crawling back into the bed without bothering to dress again.

Ryan pulls him close and Hector goes with it, resting his head on the older man's shoulder and draping an arm around his waist. His voice is low, accent extra strong the way it always is after sex. “Y'gonna be okay?”

Hector doesn't look up, simply closes his eyes when he feels Ryan's lip pressing into his hair. He sighs and kisses Ryan's chest. “I always am when I'm with you.”


End file.
